


The further on the edge, the hotter the intensity

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Derek Hale, Fluff, Future Fic, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 11:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11378820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: Derek’s date doesn’t go well, but luckily Stiles is there to make up for it.





	The further on the edge, the hotter the intensity

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [ this post](http://captain-snark.tumblr.com/post/162340591013/stiles-and-derek-having-very-intense-sex) by captain-snark, though I kind of cut to the chase. Thanks to troubleiwant for telling me I should write this!

Stiles slips into the loft with a book in his hand, and he’s already halfway to the shelf before he realizes Derek is _here_ , sitting on the couch. “Hey,” he says, sliding the book into the spot it belongs. “Didn’t you have a date tonight? I thought you’d still be out.”

“Yeah,” Derek sighs, and Stiles sees that he actually looks kind of…sad. Bummed, even. “I thought I would be, too.”

“What happened?” Stiles asks, sitting down on the other end of the couch. “Seemed like things were going well.”

“I thought so too,” Derek says, rubbing a hand across his face. “But I guess the newness was starting to wear off, because he was kind of an asshole tonight. He kept lying about things, even little stuff that didn’t matter at all. And he kept trying to tell me what to do, and how I should act, if I was really going to be _his_ boyfriend.”

“Yikes. Sounds like you dodged a bullet there,” Stiles says, because there’s nothing Derek hates more than people trying to control him. He gently nudges Derek’s shoulder. “So why the sad face?”

“I figured we’d have sex after this date,” Derek says with surprising candor, looking disappointed.

“Um,” Stiles says, because he couldn’t imagine it being _that_ difficult for Derek to get laid.

“I don’t like having sex with strangers, I like to know somebody first,” Derek grumbles, catching Stiles’ look. “And I haven’t had sex with a guy in _so long_. I was really looking forward to it.”

“Well, if that’s what you’re wanting, I don’t think you have to look too far,” Stiles says, offhand. Derek had once picked him up from the jungle when the jeep wouldn’t start, and when he’d gone back the next week, there had been _a lot_ of questions. And offers. Any one of those guys would be more than happy to help out.

“Is that an invitation?” Derek asks, suddenly halfway across the couch and into his space, looking strangely hopeful.

“I—” _didn’t really mean it that way, but I—_ “would be more than willing to—”

That’s as far as he gets before Derek’s lips are on his, soft and eager, and Derek’s hands are on his shoulders, bearing him back against the couch. Stiles feels a jolt of arousal as Derek’s stubble tingles against his upper lip, and he grabs the front of Derek’s shirt, pulling him in.

He feels Derek smile, and then his tongue is slipping into Stiles’ mouth, and its way hotter than he ever imagined it’d be. (And he _has_ imagined it. A lot.) Derek is big and warm and hovering over him, and Stiles just wants him _closer._

Derek seems to understand his frustrated noise, because his hands slide down to Stiles’ thighs, curling under them to haul him up off the couch and into his arms. Stiles throws his legs around Derek’s waist, clings tight to his shoulders, and ends up breaking the kiss to pant against Derek’s neck.

He’d just come over here to return a book; he certainly hadn’t expected to find out that sex with the hottest person knows is _definitely_ on the table, so he’s in a kind of lost in a haze of shock and arousal. And every time Stiles tries to figure out how, exactly, this happened to him, he’s distracted by the unintentional grind of Derek’s hips against his as he carries him up the stairs.

Derek settles him carefully on the bed, and then his hands seem to be all over Stiles, everywhere at once, a constant contact that spreads pleasant shivers through him. He’s not completely sure how they both end up naked, but he is fully behind that development.

Derek pauses then, his hands stroking up and down the insides of Stiles’ thighs. “What do you want—” he starts.

“This is for you,” Stiles says breathlessly. “Do what _you_ want.” Derek will stop in an instant if he senses something’s not okay, and Stiles trusts him to do that.

He expects Derek’s lube-slick fingers between his legs, because every time he’s fantasized about this, he imagines Derek will want to fuck him. So he arches up in surprise at the cool slide of it as Derek circles his cock and strokes, slow and smooth.

He realizes that it’s the same rhythm Derek is using to open himself up with his other hand, and Stiles has to tap out for a moment, biting down on his fingers to distract himself.

He lets out a shuddering breath when Derek lets go, then groans when he gently, teasingly dribbles a little more lube across the head of his cock, spreading it delicately with the tips of his fingers. Before Stiles can get too frustrated, Derek’s other hand moves to brace against his chest, and he raises himself up over Stiles’ hips, lining up—

He has to close his eyes then, because he can’t bear watch Derek lowering himself onto his cock. It’s already so intense just feeling himself slide inside, he can’t look or he’ll _come right now_ and ruin this for Derek. The muscles in his neck strain as he tilts his head back, jaw tensed, and tries to take deep, calming breaths.

Derek’s weight settles down on him, and Stiles feels himself pushing in as deep as he can go. Derek must realize how hard Stiles is working to stay in control of his body, because his hands run soothingly down his chest and sides, then back up again, until Stiles’ breathing is a little more even.

Then Derek starts moving in a slick, slow slide, and groans a little through his clenched teeth. “Fuck, _yes_ ,” he says with a low growl, and it’s probably the best thing Stiles has ever heard.

He digs his heels into the sheets, his hands gripping hard on the bunching muscles of Derek’s thighs. He has no doubt that Derek has the strength to ride him all day if he wanted, and the thought of that almost sends Stiles over the edge.

He watches the roll of Derek’s hips, mesmerized as he drives down on to his cock, moving faster and faster. He has to yank his gaze away pretty quickly though, because he’s barely holding on as it is, and he glances up at Derek’s face instead.

That’s a mistake.

Derek’s expression is soft with pleasure, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he works himself on Stiles, clearly getting exactly what he needs.

Stiles lets out a ragged, desperate sound. “Derek,” he pants. “Touch yourself. _Please_.”

Derek’s hands leave his body then, and he shivers at the coolness left in their wake. He watches Derek run his palm up the underside of his cock, arching into it, which in turn makes Stiles arch into _him_.

Derek begins to rock into his hand, pushing his cock through the tight circle of his fist as he rides Stiles harder. Stiles feels his whole body drawing taut in anticipation, and it’s a relief when Derek goes first, shuddering as he comes, clenching tightly around Stiles.

Stiles’ stomach muscles are so tense they ache, and Derek is still moving a little as he strokes himself through his release, but it’s not quite _enough_ , and Stiles’ orgasm is so close it’s almost burning through him. “Derek,” he manages to get out. “ _Derek_.”

Derek seems to understand, because he suddenly leans back, one hand still on his cock, the other braced on Stiles’ thigh, and starts moving immediately. It’s a rough, erratic rhythm, but it’s working, and Stiles drives up as much as he can under Derek’s weight, chasing that last little bit of sensation that will push him over the edge.

He finally gets there, surging up as he comes with a gasp, and it’s so good his toes are curling as his cock pulses hard inside Derek. His back arches, his hips trying to press deeper into Derek as they twitch thorough the powerful aftershocks.

Stiles can only stare up at Derek in wonderment as he tries to catch his breath.

Derek does one last roll of his hips, leans down to kiss Stiles, then carefully slides off and lays down next to him on the bed.

It takes Stiles a few minutes to recover, but when he does, he immediately rolls on his side, grinning at Derek. Derek rolls his eyes, and Stiles knows he must look ridiculous, but he doesn’t care. Because Derek looks _happy,_ and that’s all that matters.        

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
